


I mean, I did tell you

by julilihatfun



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Fever, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Being an Idiot, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia is Bad at Communicating, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, Infection, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, Sick Jaskier | Dandelion, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:34:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23260291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julilihatfun/pseuds/julilihatfun
Summary: From my tumblr: "prompt time!!! feel free to ignore this if it doesn't speak to you, but: what about something where jaskier keeps asking for a break and geralt thinks he's just whining about being tired, but really, he's been hiding a serious wound, which may or may not be infected, and he's actually UNDERreacting? :D if you don't like this, i can try again!"orJaskier does try to warn Geralt that some kind of ugly plant has shot something at him and its not his fault that the Witcher does not listen! :(
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 15
Kudos: 682





	I mean, I did tell you

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just having fun with whumping Jaskier basically (I'm sorry)

“Geralt.”, Jaskier tries again. His voice is slightly wobbly, but Geralt does not seem to really care.

He just sighs again, really, making Jaskier feel like the biggest burden on the planet. And he tried powering through – he really did. But he started feeling dizzy and disconnected _hours_ ago and every step sends shivers of pain through his body.

“No.”, the Witcher growls eventually, making Jaskier wince.

“Please…” He tries, desperate for a little rest. “I-“

“Damn it Jaskier!”, Geralt roars then, a clear sign of the stress he had been experiencing in the past couple of days. “People are dying – we can’t rest every time your feet hurt.”

Jaskier is positive that _he is dying_ , too, but Geralt probably has a point, so he keeps his mouth shut. His feet don’t hurt, actually. His left side is giving him trouble though – the one where the huge, hideous flower-thingy (he’s pretty sure that Geralt called it an Archespore, but it’s not like Jaskier _really_ cares about that right now) that they encountered a few hours prior, shot some sort of thorn or- or leaf (honestly, what the fuck?) at him while Geralt was already burning it to the ground (Jaskier thinks, that it’s exactly what the thing deserved). And it _hurt_.

Really, _really_ hurt.

Jaskier had stifled a scream, gasping dramatically and putting on a whole show for Geralt, but his Witcher barely glanced at him and Jaskier kind of abstained from telling Geralt, due to the pain gradually having lessened in intensity after he had pulled the thing out of his flesh. It had been barely bleeding, too, so he had just kind of assumed, that he would be fine. They desperately needed to get to Velen before the sunrise of the next day. And Geralt had been stressed and on edge for a whole _week_. It probably was a combination of a lack of sleep and the uprise of person-eating monsters in villages all over.

The pain came back with a vengeance a while later, while Jaskier was distractedly strumming his lute. He had hunched over with squeaky huff and the instrument produced a horrible, off-tune sound, that had Roach neighing in indignation. Geralt had thrown him _the look_. Had not commented though.

And the pain had not subsided since then.

Jaskier can feel beads of sweat trickling down his neck and back and his whole body feels awfully heavy and shaky. He would categorize this as a class A emergency, so he tries to get Geralts attention again.

“I really think that-“, he starts, then stops abruptly to swallow heavily. His throat is _parched_. Huh. When did that happen?

He tries coughing in order to find his voice again, but that just leaves him winded.

“Swallow a bug?”, Geralt huffs, and he does not quite sound amused, but definitely not concerned either. Jaskier shakes his head and clears his throat, trying to finally share his struggle in this moment of attention from Geralt.

“No.”, he grounds out, sounding shaky. “Feel weird.”

Geralts face seems to soften. “I know that the past days have been hard on you too.” He pauses slightly. “You can have plenty of rest as soon as we reach the inn.”

And Jaskier is so busy basking in the glow of Geralts niceness, that he misses his opportunity. The Witcher is already several steps ahead of him again.

And Jaskier really tries to hold it together then. Imagining himself licking his wounds in the comfort of a real bed. He can feel his legs tremble and every jostling step _hurts_.

When his vision starts blurring on the edges, he decides to bring this whole mess up again.

“Rest”, he wheezes. “Need- really have to…”

And then he sinks down dramatically, all the while keeping his eyes fixed on Geralt in a silent scream for help. The man swings down from Roach much more graciously than a man his size should be able to and rounds on Jaskier.

It really stings, when the Witcher shakes his head in anger. “Dying, Jaskier. People are dying.”, he growls yet again, and it makes Jaskier feel even worse.

“I know, I’m just-“

“Tired. Yeah. Imagine how I feel.”

And Jaskier _really_ hopes, that Geralt does not feel as bad as he does. He does not think that it should be legal for _anyone_ to feel like he does right in this moment.

“Please, Geralt.”, Jaskier begs and this time, Geralts face hardens.

“Would have thought that you would have more empathy.”

Jaskier desperately shakes his head. He needs Geralt to understand. Because something is wrong. Very wrong, and he is starting to feel scared.

“Rest. Might be able to catch up with me later.” And to Jaskiers horror, Geralt turns around and walks back towards Roach before he can even get another word out. And now – now he feels absolutely _terrified_ at the prospect of having to handle this all by himself.

“NO!”, he hears himself scream and it sounds shrill and hoarse and just as panicked as he feels. “Please don’t leave me.”

Then, he starts to sob desperately, tears blurring his vision.

As soon as he has blinked some of them away, he looks directly into Geralts eyes.

“Sorry.”, he croaks. Geralt shakes his head yet again, but this time, the hardness is missing from his face. He gives Jaskier a once-over and furrows his brows.

“Something is wrong.” He states the obvious. “What.”

“Feel…” Jaskier swallows hard. “Real’ weird.”

“Yeah, I need you to be more specific.”

“’T hurts.”, the bard gasps then and Geralt closes his eyes in frustration for a second.

“How is that more specific?”, he asks.

Jaskier really does not have the energy to roll out the whole story, so he just shrugs, feeling more exhausted by the second, now that he is no longer on his feet.

Suddenly, there is a cold hand on his cheek, and his eyes snap open. He finds Geralts eyes again and then latches on, grasping the Witchers wrist tightly.

“You’re burning.”

Jaskier slumps forwards, resting his heavy head on Geralts clothed chest. It kind of grounds him, and he closes his eyes, wanting to just… rest.

“I need to know what’s wrong. Jaskier.” Jaskier hears the urgency in Geralts voice, but he can’t bring himself to react. “Are you ill? Or is there something else? Jaskier!”

The bard groans, Geralts wrist still held tightly between his fingers, which makes everything more uncomfortable, but he is not letting go anytime soon.

He cracks his eyes open slightly, and the disorientation lessens lightly. “Ugly plant.”, he mumbles. “Shot something at me.”

He gestures awkwardly towards his left side and Geralts eyes move to the medium sized hole in his shirt, that is bloody around the edges.

“Shit.” Geralts springs to his feet so fast, that Jaskier slumps forwards.

And when the Witcher runs towards Roach, the full-blown panic is back. Jaskier hears himself screeching something as he tries to prop himself up, whimpering in pain unconsciously.

But then Geralt is moving back towards him, helping him sit up again, and Jaskier finds his wrist again, clasping the Witchers shirt with his other hand this time. Just to make sure.

“Drink this!”, Geralt urges. “Now!” And then he tips some kind of milky liquid down Jaskiers throat so fast, that it leaves the bard gasping and sputtering.

After that, Geralt kind of just stares at him, as if expecting some sort of reaction.

Jaskier just lets himself fall forward again. They remain in that position for minutes until:

“Are we waiting for something?”

Suddenly, Geralt moves away again; this time to fret over Jaskiers wound.

“Fuck. Not poison then.”, he says, sounding a bit too hysteric for Jaskiers liking. “I can’t fix a fucking _infection_ Jaskier.”

Jaskier tries to huff incredulously. “Your makin’ ‘t sound like ‘tis ‘s on me”

“You should have said something.” Geralt sounds tired and frustrated, so Jaskier feels pretty bad when his whispered: “Tried to”, makes Geralts entire face _fall_ in guilt.

“’M sorry.”, he adds, because he can’t with the fucking puppy dog eyes.

After that, everything is a blur. He feels himself being heaved onto Roach, being carried up to a room. Feels cold cloths on his forehead and his chest. The bandages around his torso. Being urged to drink different sorts of teas and liquids. Nightmares, that leave him sobbing and heaving.

And through all of that, Geralt remains a steady presence. Sometimes, when Jaskier is somewhat coherent, he can see the Witcher watching him from his position on a terribly uncomfortable looking chair. When he wakes from the bad dreams, it’s Geralt who pulls him into his strong arms, muttering reassurances in a way, that is entirely unlike Geralt but also kind of not.

It’s Geralt, who makes him tea and brings him soup.

It’s always Geralt.

And it makes Jaskier feel warm and safe and _at peace_.

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/julilihatfun  
> LEAVE PROMPTS PLS


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